


spin for you

by mushmin



Category: Topp Dogg (Band)
Genre: Disturbing Themes, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 13:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12727278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mushmin/pseuds/mushmin
Summary: her cruelty is measured in how much he remembers from before.(Topp Dogg 7 Day Challenge)





	spin for you

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to make this a bit longer and also more emotional because...last fic and all. 
> 
> The theme of the fic is in the summary, I just got a little carried away with it. 
> 
> The point of this entire thing is just really to be a huge thank you to everyone who made me realize that I deserve better. That there is a better. 
> 
> Thank you my closest friends, and even in the people who I'm not close to, I found a community that was so, so loving and just kind. If you know me, you know I'm an incredibly soft person so I felt like I was thriving. 
> 
> And I found my girlfriend, who gives me the world everytime she laughs and who I love so much and feel so many things for. And I found a few other people who I won't call out but they still mean everything to me.
> 
> The people I've found in the past two years through @mushmin have helped me so much without realizing. It's so fucking therapeutic to love people without being afraid that you're tiring them.
> 
> Thank you for being my Kim Taeyang, Kim Dongsung, Jin Hyosang, Park Hyunho, Jeon Hojoon, Yu Sangdo, Shin Yooncheol, Kim Hansol, Kim Byungjoo, Shin Jiho, Kim Sanggyun, and Seo Sangwon.
> 
> Anyway, I'm so incredibly happy now and I have so many people to owe that to so I wrote a long, angsty fic. Do enjoy. 
> 
> Anniversary for the challenge.

He is a record player, a charming remnant, a showpiece set in the corner of the room. A conversation starter. He adds character, she says. 

Nobody has vinyl records anymore, and if they do, they don't know how to make him sing them. He is a magnet for delicate manicured hands to play with. He is nothing. 

He wonders when it came to this. He remembers why it came to this. He wishes he could do it all over again, so perhaps adrenaline would effortlessly keep him alive just as it had before. 

He thinks, as long as he can remember all of their names, he'll be able to survive off of the memories alone. 

_Kim Taeyang, Kim Dongsung, Jin Hyosang, Park Hyunho, Jeon Hojoon, Yu Sangdo, Shin Yooncheol, Kim Hansol, Kim Byungjoo, Shin Jiho, Kim Sanggyun, Seo Sangwon_

He counts them off on his fingers. He has them all. 

He hugs his shaking hands to himself, as if a little piece of them all was locked within the whorls and loops of his fingerprint, as if he could will their warmth back into the parts of him he thinks have frozen into unrecognizability. 

Realizing he is wrong, that he is truly alone, realizing that they aren't coming for him--it freezes him deeper. 

It is her cruelest trick, he thinks, that she allows him his dreams, where he knows nothing but their presence, where he grows drunk on their voices and bubbly laughs, so when he awakens, it is the sluggish realization that they are not here that cuts deepest.

She is a master of his mind, feeds off of his delicate insecurities if it will only make him the slightest bit more malleable for her. 

Every once in a while, she'll bring out a cake, blue icing curling on the face of it, but he can't really being himself to read it when he realizes how closely it resembles a sinister smile.

Her voice is low and sweet, as it always is when she plays these games with him, throat a vice around a song he thinks he can recognize as a congratulatory hymn. 

_Happy Anniversary,_ she says. Almost as if her tongue poisons the words, the pleasant melody begins to sound more like a funeral dirge to his ears. 

Alarmingly, he spends much of his time now wishing it was. Because he realizes another thing the day he catches sight of her calendar: she celebrates his anniversary every 3 months, everytime on a different date, as if to cleanse his mind entirely of the true date. 

She can't take it away, though. He clings to shiny, vinyl jackets, his name printed across red fabric. That memory is the only reason he can still recall his name. _P-Goon_ , the shirt read. 

He holds tight to the vinyl records he clutched, fingers grown white from the effort. He remembers a time when he was a record player that they all knew how to make sing. 

_Kim Taeyang, Kim Dongsung, Jin Hyosang, Park Hyunho, Jeon Hojoon, Yu Sangdo, Shin Yooncheol, Kim Hansol, Kim Byungjoo, Shin Jiho, Kim Sanggyun, Seo Sangwon_

He is not her record player, he does not sit silent in the corner. He screams sometimes, he may even engage in the occasional bout of mockery. He is no weak ornament to make her life seem more meaningful, he is no vessel for her frustrations. He will not sing for her. She should not make him sing for her. She cannot make him sing for her.

He is P-Goon, he belongs only to Kim Taeyang, Kim Dongsung, Jin Hyosang, Park Hyunho, Jeon Hojoon, Yu Sangdo, Shin Yooncheol, Kim Hansol, Kim Byungjoo, Shin Jiho, Kim Sanggyun, and Seo Sangwon. 

He is P-Goon, the man she locks up when he grows hysteric. She loops rope so quickly around his wrists and ankles he barely has the time to struggle. She covers his mouth with layer upon layer of--fabric? 

Is that a jacket? She balls the sleeves up and feeds them into his throat until his eyes are rolling back into his head and he is gagging constantly, then ties the bodice around his neck. She tapes it all together, careful to not allow him any peace from the sleeves packed into his throat. She allows him a glimpse of the name on the jacket. 

_Yano_ , it reads. He cannot recall a Yano. 

He gags until his body is too exhausted, vomits again and again into his own mouth when the threads that linger at the edge of the sleeves curl too close to the back of his throat. 

_Kim Taeyang, Kim Dongsung, Jin Hyosang, Park Hyunho, Jeon Hojoon, Yu Sangdo, Shin Yooncheol, Kim Hansol, Kim Byungjoo, Shin Jiho, Kim Sanggyun_

There's eleven when he counts this time. He is comforted. If he has nothing else, at least he has their identities imprinted in his mind. 

He is not hysteric anymore. She does not come. He stays silent for days, or at least he thinks it's been days, time has passed in phases of vomit thick hazes and alertness. He thinks he must be dehydrated. 

He stays silent and still so she will come back. He does not fight or struggle. 

She does not come. 

When he feels death first brush it's gentle hands across his forehead, sticky with sweat, he counts them off in his head: a last hurrah. 

_Kim Taeyang, Kim Dongsung, Jin Hyosang, Park Hyunho, Jeon Hojoon, Yu Sangdo, Shin Yooncheol, Kim Hansol, Kim Byungjoo_

All nine accounted for. He is ready to die. 

But death is gentle with him, careful with his weary bones. It samples him gently, wisps around his vomit filled cheeks, tape curling as it seeps out. 

He grows hungrier, throat growing more raw with desperation by the minute, spends less time alert than he ever has before. The line between reality and delirium becomes blurred. 

He does not have the energy to fight his bonds even if he wanted to now. 

_Kim Taeyang, Kim Dongsung, Jin Hyosang, Park Hyunho_

Death, he learns, is a dirty man. Whenever he is awake, death is pressing its cherry lips to his thighs, urine seeping through his clothes and into death's filthy mouth. 

Death, he learns, is beautiful in its own right. Black hair thick and vivacious, cheeks red with color and lips stark and wet. Its smile is inviting, eyes always dancing with mirth. At first, he thought it was mockery, but now it brightens his waking moments. 

_Kim Taeyang_

Despite everything, he still remembers his name. 

Death bites through the rope cutting into his hands, and like a lover's embrace, it wraps gently around him. 

_Say your goodbyes,_ Death says. 

And Sehyuk can't think of anyone's name to swaddle in his farewells.


End file.
